tonight's eternity is an open door
by holistic details
Summary: And it strikes Myka how Helena becomes more vocal when it is Myka receiving the pleasure.


_So this is like a trial run of sorts. (At writing smut, yes. I'm looking at my life. I'm looking at my choices. I'm looking around for the sassy gay friend I don't have.)_

Warning: _pure smut. Not safe for work. _

_Let_ _me know how I can improve; this being my first time and all._

* * *

Myka likes Helena pressed up against walls. Or doors. Trees, even. Hard surfaces in general are a blessing she's never fully appreciated before. She might take Helena against a table someday. Soon, she promises herself.

Helena arches up, whimpering and Myka returns her attention to the present. She coos at how undone the woman looks, lips parted and breasts heaving, spread out for her in their bed. Myka leans all her weight on her elbow and settles on her side next to the artificer. She makes sure there is a good amount of space between their bodies – enough so that Helena is easily within reach, but not so near that she can feel anything more than Myka's body heat.

Myka raises her right hand in the air, and spreads apart her fingers. Helena watches the movements intently, looking as though she's trying to absorb Myka into herself through sheer power of will. One by one, all of Myka's fingers save for her forefinger retreat into a fist. She presses the very tip of the solitary digit to the hollow of Helena's collar bone, and traces down the valley of her breasts, keeping to the line though she's sorely tempted to deviate and soothe the twin peaks so enticingly presented to her. Myka pauses right below Helena's breasts, enjoying the small moan that results, and scores a line straight down the trembling muscles of Helena's stomach.

Myka takes her time, enjoying the way Helena is unable to decide if she should press her body up or to the side, but either way desperate for more contact than she's being allowed. Then Myka changes path abruptly and makes a sharp right at Helena's hips, scratching down her thigh instead of going straight down, cheating Helena of anticipated pleasure. Helena lets out a frustrated moan and throws her head back. The move bares her neck and Myka takes immediate advantage, worshipping the offering with lips and teeth and tongue.

"Oh, Myka," Helena rasps, almost slurring.

Her hand fumbles for a grasp on Myka's shoulder, determined to get that mouth down to where it should be, but forgets she even had a plan when Myka sucks hard at the junction of her jawbone and ear, a spot that has her mewling and arching. But Myka still refuses to let their bodies press together and a part of Helena's brain that has miraculously retained the ability to think wonders why Myka is depriving them of the exquisite pleasure of skin on skin.

Myka traces nonsensical words on Helena's inner thigh and Helena falls back on the bed, half delirious with pleasure. Myka has been toying with her for what seems like an eternity, and Helena's impatience only serves to fuel her desire.

Her hair splays around her head like a dark halo as she pushes her face into the pillow and Myka's breath catches at the sight. She brushes away the strand of hair covering Helena's shoulder, and presses a reverent kiss to her collarbone. Myka backs away, depriving Helena of any contact at all, drinking in the way her eyes flutter at the loss.

Myka makes a decision.

She slings her leg over Helena's hips while simultaneously burying her head in Helena's breasts. The artificer groans deep in her chest at the contact, scrabbling at Myka's back and Myka is thankful for the cushion around her ears because if she hears the sound of Helena's pleasure, the game is lost, and she will give in the lure of Helena's body.

Myka pulls back, and rocks her hips carefully, memorizing every bite of Helena's teeth to her reddened bottom lip, every quirk of Helena's furrowed brows, every twitch of Helena's eyelids.

"Keep your eyes open," Myka says, and it comes out a growl. Myka's blood pounds at the soft sounds Helena makes in the back of her throat in her struggle to obey and she kisses her deeply the moment near-black eyes blink up at her. They exchange long kisses, slow and exploratory, until Myka slips a leg between hers and pushes _up_. Helena breaks away, gasping for air and raking her nails down Myka's back in a silent plea.

Helena's wetness smears hot against her thigh and Myka bites back a groan at the evidence of how much Helena needs her. It spurs her to action and Myka's mouth is hot and wet when she finally, _finally,_ allows Helena to feel the full weight of her body on top of her, pressing open-mouthed kisses where ever she can reach.

She grins when Helena cries out, arching beneath her. Myka knows Helena understands now why Myka wouldn't touch her properly before – waiting for it makes it ten times better, makes their bodies burn ten times hotter and the way they are melding together now is not unlike being electrocuted.

Myka bites down on a painfully erect nipple and is rewarded with a full body jerk. Helena can't help herself, her eyes slam shut at receiving the long overdue attention – Myka is finally ready to stop teasing.

Helena is almost helpless with the sheer magnitude of her pleasure, naked and trusting in Myka's arms. She communicates with whimpers and moans and incoherent pleas to a higher being and Myka is _invincible_ in this moment. She knows nothing better than this feeling.

She reaches for Helena's hand – the one that doesn't have a death grip in her hair – and tangles their fingers together, rubbing circles on her thumb. She isn't expecting the sudden vice grip.

"Myka," Helena begs breathlessly. "_Please._"

She's never been able to refuse.

Helena's skin burns hot as Myka makes her way down, gasping at the way their bodies catch and slide. Myka mumbles unintelligibly into Helena's skin as she leaves behind marks of her passing: here a rosy spot on the underside of a breast, here slick wetness where she dipped her tongue into Helena's bellybutton – which garners another full-body jerk, but now Myka's determined to make Helena come, she won't stand for extraneous movements that aren't indicative of Helena's impending climax – here the faint indentation of teethmarks on her hip (a reminder to regain control – intended for both of them). At long, long last, she comes to the tops of Helena's thighs. She grins – a wide, feral thing – and moves down eagerly.

She's parched and nothing but Helena can slake her thirst. Both of Helena's hands bury themselves in Myka's curls and she raises her eyes to see Helena's back come off the bed, hair clinging to her forehead and shoulders, eyes firmly shut, and mouth forming words that don't leave her throat.

She is holy, an absolute vision, and Myka is seized with the compulsion to make this ethereal being come apart at her hand.

The sound Helena makes when Myka slides three fingers in, no warning (she has trouble believing Helena would require one), makes goosebumps rise along Myka's skin and her own need slams hard into her. But she doesn't have time for herself right now, she has to see Helena come undone, has to hear the sound of her release and taste it in the heated air.

And so, she wraps her lips around the bundle of nerves just above Helena's entrance and deepens her thrusts into Helena. The woman is shaking almost violently now, undulating her hips, desperate for as much of Myka as she can get. In that moment, Myka realizes she was wrong before: _this_ is the best feeling she knows; Helena's taste in her mouth, the smell of sex in the air with Helena frenzied beneath her.

Before she really expects it, Helena is clenching around Myka's fingers and crying her release to the world. Myka is reluctant to slow down – she wants Helena at her mercy forever. But slow she does, removing her fingers only when the last of the aftershocks fade and Helena is limp underneath her.

She is still panting when Myka crawls up next to her. The porcelain skin Myka so admires is slick with sweat and Myka can't resist leaving a mark or two (or three) on her journey upwards. Helena breathes a laugh as Myka's tongue tickles the area between the top of her breast and her collarbone.

"Come here," Helena murmurs, pushing on Myka's shoulder. Helena is still too overcome by her orgasm to exert any real pressure, but Myka acquiesces regardless.

Helena's eyes always look lighter after sex (like maybe the darkness that lingers about her during the day loses the ability to affect her in this moment, with Myka) and laugh lines appear along the corners. Myka grins foolishly at the sight.

"Hi," she says shyly, ducking her head to press a quick kiss to Helena's lips. The woman in question raises her hand to cup Myka's neck as she returns the greeting, albeit a bit breathlessly.

Myka hovers, hands on either side of Helena's head, soaking in the expression of complete satiation. And all because of her. The thought brings a smirk to her lips and she leans down again to steal a few more kisses. Now that she's given herself permission to touch Helena, she can't bring herself to stop. Helena doesn't seem to mind, urging gently down on Myka's back. Myka gives in, resting her head right above Helena's heart. Helena is mostly still underneath her, smoothing a hand over Myka's hair, and the heartbeat under Myka's ear slows accordingly.

They lie like that a while, and Myka is content, until Helena shifts her leg and brushes – perhaps accidentally – the apex of Myka's thighs. Desire that had previously lain dormant flares back to life. She hisses out a breath and feels Helena chuckle beneath her.

"Darling," she says, and flips them over.

"What," Myka breathes out, hands resting upturned above her head, the posture of a supplicant. She watches Helena lick her lips and feels shivers go down her spine – Myka's about to become her prey.

Helena slowly ghosts a finger down Myka's body and Myka smiles when she realizes Helena is copying her earlier actions. But she isn't smiling when Helena meanders down to her bellybutton and the continuous feather-light touches have Myka trembling as though cold. She isn't smiling when Helena finds her clit, and circles once, twice. She definitely isn't smiling when Helena grins teasingly and sits up straight, absolutely ignoring the rest of Myka's tense body.

"I am given to understand," Helena enunciates clearly. "That you are perhaps in need of a service I may be able to provide."

Myka doesn't mind Helena's tendency to use ten words where one will do – she adores Helena's voice, the hitch when Myka touches her, or the growl when Myka pleases (or _displeases_) her. She loves the way it travels in through her ear and winds sinuously down her spine to pool low in her stomach, stoking the heat created by Helena's mere presence. Its effect is amplified in the bedroom, when Helena is actively seducing her, no pretence about it.

And it's always fairly easy to steer Helena back to where she wants her. "I wish you'd touch me," Myka sighs, letting her eyes roam below the tempting fullness of Helena's mouth, down the column of her throat, past the flush of her chest and rising nipples, to where their bodies meet, Helena casually straddling Myka's hips.

"Of course," Helena smirks, drawing Myka's gaze up to Helena's darkening eyes and Myka thinks it's not going be as easy as that. "Anything you want, anything at all."

Myka raises an eyebrow, and braces herself for Helena's game. She knows Helena, knows she delights in the moments when Myka is laid beneath her for her to play with like a toy and Myka can't begrudge her for it in the least.

"Would you like me to touch you here?" Helena asks sweetly, petting along Myka's hairline.

Myka purses her lips and Helena pretends to pout. "No? Well, that won't do. How about here?" Helena strokes the shell of Myka's ear lightly.

"Not quite," Myka murmurs, willing to play along for now. She traces shapes on Helena's hip and enjoys the light kiss of Helena's fingers along her ear, and Myka is happy here, with this woman so clearly in her element.

She receives a warm smile in return, and the back of Helena's hand caresses her cheek before she returns to their new game. "Surely this is the place." She dances her fingers down Myka's throat.

Myka shakes her head.

"No again?" Helena's voice drips syrup. "Dear me."

"Try lower," Myka suggests.

"Lower?" Helena arches an eyebrow and the predatory gaze aimed at her sends lightning directly to Myka's core.

She can only manage a hum in response. Helena lightly trails cool fingers down Myka's throat. Slowly, gently, Helena makes her way to her breasts and Myka sighs with relief. Her fingers tease at Myka's nipples, circling and twisting. She doesn't know how the touch affects her this much – it is unrelenting and absolutely divine, yes, but as light as the fall breeze outside – she feels too hot all over and all she knows is that Helena needs to touch her properly.

"Helena," Myka tries, letting her head push hard against the bed.

"No? And I was so sure this time," Helena shakes her head, hair falling in gorgeous waves around her shoulders.

Myka presses her lips together, trying not to make a sound. All at once, Helena moves down her body and her vow of silence goes up in smoke as she lets out a noise best described as _distressed_. Helena doesn't go far, just to the bottom of the bed, where she can see all of Myka stretched bare before her. Instead of feeling shy and exposed, Helena's heated stare fans the flames of her desire.

"If the ever elusive spot where you desire my touch is not above your waist," Helena runs a hand up Myka's calf, and they both luxuriate in the smoothness. "The logical thing would be to look _below_." And with that, she bends and places a careful kiss just above Myka's ankle, hair tickling either side of Myka's leg.

Myka sighs. It feels as though Helena is spending an eternity just on Myka's calf – she hasn't even started one the other leg – and Myka needs to do something or else she might actually combust with the force of her frustration. Helena makes it up to her knee, and Myka's never particularly felt one way or another about her knees, but the slow, gentle kisses she's receiving there make her wonder if the region is not more special than she previously thought, if Helena is paying such close attention.

"Missed my stomach," she manages.

Helena looks inordinately pleased at this. "I did indeed. Oh, what can I do to make up for such an awful oversight?"

She hides a grin at Myka's glare. "Just touch me," Myka hisses.

"Hush, darling. I always grant your wishes, don't I?" Helena asks breezily, slowly (_tortuously_) moving up Myka's body.

Helena spreads her hands flat on Myka's stomach and it does absolutely nothing to assuage the burning need she feels everywhere on her body. Her entire body arches in a silent plea for Helena to relieve the aching, neglected skin so eager for her touch.

Helena must see it, but seems determined to ignore it and in chocolate eyes Myka swears she reads a flicker that means _payback. _

"Doesn't this feel good?" Helena asks impishly, scratching lightly down her sides.

"Not really." Her voice is small, strained with stupid, stubborn pride and she's betrayed by the way her hands bunch up the bedsheets. Helena pinches and rubs with her long, strong fingers and pulls from Myka increasingly vocal responses.

Suddenly, Helena's hands are below her bellybutton, and steadily moving downwards. Myka holds her breath. Burning now with the heat of desire and anticipation, Myka moans.

Breath comes in increasingly short gasps as hands drifts ever downwards, just shy of where Myka needs her. Myka wraps a leg around Helena as best she can, preemptively urging her closer. As suddenly as they appeared, her hands go away and return, only at the sides of Myka's breasts and as nice as that feels, it's nowhere near the release she was anticipating.

"Is _this_ the spot?"

"_No,"_ Myka has moved beyond frustrated and straight into desperate.

"How distressing," Helena grins outright at Myka's moan. "It appears I may require your assistance. Would you be so kind?"

She offers her hand to Myka, all wide innocent eyes, and the younger agent tugs it desperately down.

Helena hisses out a breath at the same time Myka moans, loud and drawn out. Her fingers slide easily into Myka's entrance, urged along by Myka and now both their hands are slick with Myka's wetness. Her thumb comes up briefly to rub Myka's clit.

"Helena," Myka says thickly.

Then Helena's fingers press up into her and Myka's train of thought is permanently derailed.

"Do you know?" Helena's whisper is hot in Myka's ear, and Myka listens intently, even as Helena's fingers drag in and out of her, purposefully slow and measured. "Your voice, your body, your soul, they strip me to my very core, and I find my essence is made up of little more than a woman who exists for the sight of you coming apart under me." Kiss after bruising kiss is placed on Myka's bared throat, and Myka is intoxicated by her sheer proximity – Helena's spicy-sweet scent and the heat of her – she is aflame with it. "Will you grant me _my_ wish, darling?" Helena's voice is low and thick and needy even as clever fingers sink again and again in velvety smoothness and it dashes Myka's sanity to bits.

"Oh, Myka," Helena is pushing deeper into her now, and faster. "Myka, you are exquisite, my darling," Helena sucks a nipple into her mouth and flicks at it with a tongue that is hot and wet and perfect. "Positively succulent."

Myka mewls; she is completely overwhelmed by Helena, she is completely Helena's.

And it strikes Myka how Helena becomes more vocal when it is Myka receiving the pleasure, as if she is making up for the words Myka does not (_can_ not) articulate. She resolves to ponder this more thoroughly at a later date, right now Helena is – oh she is oh – she _oh!_

Helena laps up Myka's release and this brand new sensation of a hot wet mouth where elegant fingers still work make Myka cry out again, her hips completely off the bed and as close to that wicked, talented tongue as she can get. Myka twitches and moans and Helena doesn't let up, Myka is shown no mercy, she is licked and stroked again and again until another, softer orgasm washes over her and she falls to the bed, boneless and spent.

Silky hair tickles her neck as Helena settles down on Myka's body. When she can open her eyes again, she sees Helena gazing down at her, looking proud and humbled all at once, and Myka's heart thuds in response.

"Beautiful," Helena murmurs. Her accent curves and bends around the word and it feels as cleansing as spring rain on Myka's too-hot body.

Myka is half-asleep already, but she reaches out to secure Helena next to her body and they shift and settle and fall into slumber as the sky lightens outside.


End file.
